A Day of Gods and Monsters
by Fireglass
Summary: When Dean and Sam go on shore leave with Maggie, Dean's girlfriend, things quickly spiral out of hand; new friends, old friends, and frenemies unite. Who's REALLY behind all of this? -Dean/OC-Based off an RP-
1. Chapter 1

I wrote this for my dear friend, a transcription of an incredible RP. I friggin' ship Maggie/Dean like nobody's business now.

Warnings: Language.

Pairings: Dean/OC

Full Summary: When Dean and Sam stop in to Dean's girlfriend's house for a siesta, things get ugly. Unlikely resurrections, abductions, new foes with old grudges and one seriously time-warped god-angel. Slightly crack!

* * *

><p>"Dude, too much driving, not enough food." Dean flung himself down on Maggie's couch, scrubbing his hands over his unshaven jaw.<p>

"Yeah, well, maybe if you hadn't gotten us lost two hours ago, we'd have been here in time for dinner." Sam flopped onto the recliner footstool and raked his hands back through his hair.

"It takes longer than two hours for food to get moldy, guys." Maggie called from the kitchen, grinning. She'd been putting up with the brothers long enough to know when Dean's complaining was really a request to have dinner brought to him, and Sam's reply was an obvious 'Go get it yourself, jerk.' "Dean, blueberry or apple pie?"

"Uh, how 'bout both?"

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Sam?"

"Apple's fine, thanks."

"Coming right up." Maggie grabbed two plates in one hand, two in the other and joined them in the living room, divvying up the meals.

"Anyone ever tell you you're God's gift to mankind, sweetheart?" Dean cracked an adorable smile, forfeiting the pie momentarily in favor of pulling Maggie down by his side. He nuzzled her cheek.

Sam pulled a face. "Gross. Go get a room, you two."

"There's three upstairs." Maggie quipped, and Sam rolled his eyes, hiding a smile in a bite of pie.

"All right, Chomper, you conquer that food." Dean stood up, shucking off his jacket. "I'm gonna hit the head."

"Hurry up, or your pie's mine!" Sam called after him.

"Touch my pie and die, bro!" Dean hollered, footsteps clumping up the stairs.

Maggie grinned, propping her elbow on the arm of the couch and resting her head on her fist. "So, that werewolf hunt in Tennessee. You're still going, right?"

Sam's forehead yanked tight in a frown and he chewed slower, giving himself time to think. "Yeah. Bobby thinks there might be more than just the five."

"Dammit." Maggie bit her lip. "You sure you guys can handle it?"

Sam smiled slightly. "Hey, we've faced worse."

The first strains of Kansas' _Carry on my Wayward Son_ filtered into the conversation. Maggie hurried to grab the phone off the table beside the door, scruffling Sam's hair in passing. He shoved her arm away, smiling, as Maggie connected the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, kitten."

Maggie shot a sideways glance toward Sam, then backed into the kitchen and closed the door. "Hi, king. How are things?"

Being on speaking terms with the King of Hell wasn't something most humans could attest to. Generally, people tended to run from that kind of thing. But skirmishes with selling souls and two very protective, denim-wrapped nightmares had put Maggie into Crowley's relative good-graces. Which generally meant he called her at all odd hours when he was itching to start something.

Crowley heaved the sigh of the century. "Quite boring at the moment. I think I may need to stir up some trouble, if you know what I mean, kitten."

Yahtzee.

An annoying two-toned beep told Maggie that another call was coming in. She pulled the phone away form her ear—frowned. "Hang on a second, I need to take this." She connected it.

"Hey."

A reluctant smile tugged at her face, hearing that playful voice. "Dean, why are you calling me while you're at my house? Where did you hide?"

The call went dead.

Maggie pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a second. "Um. Okay." She took Crowley off hold. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, I'm bored."

Maggie leaned against the counter. "Oh. Crowley, dear, if you're really bored and have nothing to do, maybe you'd like to visit me?" She slid a glance toward the door; the clatter of cutlery told her Sam was still feasting. "Dean and Sammy are here, maybe you'd like to talk. They got some important info from you, they want to say thank you." She grinned. "And I'd love to see you!"

A pause. "All right, kitten, look behind you."

Maggie swiveled around and nearly bumped face-to-face with Crowley, who was slouching against the wall, eyebrows raised, phone still pressed to his ear.

"What do they want?" He tilted his head slightly to one side.

Maggie killed the call. "They—"

The phone rang again, Caller ID flashing Dean's number. Rolling her eyes, Maggie accepted the incoming call.

"I'm under your bed."

Maggie swung around, putting her back to Crowley again and lowering her voice to a hiss. "Why are you lying there instead of sitting with _me _and hugging the crap out of me? You're going to hunt werewolves in three hours, Dean, I thought you missed me. We're not gonna see each other for a couple of weeks, you know…"

He chuckled.

Static on the line.

Struggling to hold back her frustration, Maggie plastered on a smile and turned back to Crowley. "Sorry about that. No, they only want to thank you for your help." She headed for the fridge. "Would you like some beer?"

Crowley shook his head. "You look disturbed, darling."

Maggie froze, one hand on the fridge, head bowed. There was an unsettled, sour feeling in her gut, something she couldn't identify.

She turned back to face the Demon King. "I need to check on something. Give me a minute. And _stay here_."

She took the stairs two at a time, running into her bedroom and sliding to her knees to look under the bed. Empty. Of course.

The phone rang again.

Maggie swore and checked the ID, then connected. "Hel—?"

"_Dean is crazy_!" Sam's voice was so loud Maggie pulled the phone away from her ear for a few seconds.

"I checked under my bed. He's not here, Sam."

Dead silence.

"Of course. Great, just great." Maggie hunched onto her feet and stormed back downstairs, swinging into the living room just as Sam tucked his phone into his pocket. Judging by the look on his face, Maggie had a feeling something had just confused him.

"Hey. Is it just me, or is Dean acting weird?" Sam confirmed her suspicions, picking up a piece of pie crust off his plate and munching it, meeting Maggie's gaze innocently. "This pie is delicious, by the way."

"He is. I don't know what's going on." Maggie pulled her fingers back through her hair, then scanned the room. "Sammy, where is he?"

Sam shrugged. "He's really not acting like himself, right? He just called me and said he had a surprise for me." Mouth full, Sam gave her a slightly warped smile. "Last time I thought he was acting like this, he was actually a Shapeshifter."

The phone in Maggie's hand rang, startling her. She'd already answered it before she'd even brought it to her ear. "Oh, so _I'm _the monster?"

"No one said—" She broke off the whiplash retort, closing her eyes. "Dean? Where are you now? You're scaring me. You're not under the bed, I checked. What's going on?"

That palpable, annoying silence. It took all of her restraint not to hurl the phone against the wall.

The door to the kitchen slid open. "Misplace something, darling?" Crowley sauntered in. "Wow, I _am_ surprised Dean's leaving you alone with me. He seems to have lost his better judgment, leaving his girlfriend alone with the King of Hell."

Sam lurched to his feet, yanking the demon-killing knife from his waistband. "_Crowley_?"

"Easy, moose. She invited me." Crowley nodded to Maggie. "You know full well your darling little sister has a friend in low places."

"…who wants me to be his Queen, by the way." Maggie rolled her eyes, stepping between the two of them. "But jokes aside, King, I think something's wrong. That's three times he's called me in the last five minutes. He's being an ass. That's not my Dean."

Sam cleared his throat, then looked away. Maggie glared at him.

"Don't start with me, Samuel Winchester. You're in as much trouble as he is."

"What?" Sam yelped, and Crowley snickered. "Wait, what did _I _do?"

"_You _called me and screamed in my ear!"

A thump overhead captured the attention of all three, bringing their heads swinging up. Maggie shoved her phone into her pocket. "I'll be right back."

"Mags, wait!" Sam swiped for her arm, and missed as Maggie pounced back up the stairs and almost slammed straight through the bathroom door; it swung open the second she reached it and hands caught her arms.

"Whoa, there! Easy, Juggernaut." Dean set her back at arm's length, frowning. "You must really hafta pee."

"Dean, what the _hell _is the matter with you?"

"Uh. If the bathroom stinks, I can explain—"

"I just got three calls from you, saying you were under my _bed_!"

Dean arched an eyebrow. "Unless I was pocket-dialing you, sweetheart, I think you—" He went rigid, sliding a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. "Son of a bitch. My phone's gone!"

Maggie loosened up a little bit, though the rational response should've been ramping up to anxiety. The voice on the line had definitely sounded like Dean's. "So, it _wasn't _you."

"Have I _ever _called you from the crapper?" Dean scrunched up his face. Maggie raised an eyebrow. "Wait. Don't answer that." Dean shook her slightly. "Maggie, I wasn't under your bed. I didn't call you. All right? I swear."

"I believe you." Maggie rubbed her forehead. "I don't know what's happening, but I believe you. I'll tell Sam."

"I'm gonna see if I can find my friggin' phone." Dean pushed her lightly out of the entryway and shut the bathroom door behind him. "Be down in a sec."

"Hurry." Maggie squeezed his hand.

She found Crowley and Sam at opposite ends of the living room having the glaring match of the century. There was an almost palpable tension in the air that made the back of her nick prickle; when she cleared her throat, they both looked at her. Sam's stone-solid expression softened. He joined her at the foot of the stairs.

"Hey, listen. Whoever called you, saying Dean was crazy? Not me. Mags." His expression went stormy with a sudden thought. "Do we have Shapeshifters in this house?" When Maggie didn't answer, just met his gaze bleakly, Sam thumped his fist hard against the wall. "Son of a bitch."

_Carry on my Wayward Son _interrupted the anger Maggie could see forming in Sam's eyes. She yanked out her phone again.

"_I'm behind you!_" Dean's voice screamed into her ear.

Maggie spun around to look up the stairs; nothing.

"Who _are _you?" She snarled.

"Give me the phone." Sam held out his hand and Maggie tossed it to him, but Sam hadn't even gotten it to his ear before it rang again. He punched the connect button and put it on speaker.

"Dean is drunk!"

Maggie didn't think she'd ever forget the sick gray flash that crossed Sam's face when he heard his own voice chortling over the line.

"And who are _you_?" Maggie snatched the phone back from Sam, face twisting with anger. "You're _not _Sam!"

When the call cut out this time, Maggie finally broke composure and flung the phone onto the couch. "What the hell is going _on_?"

Crowley cleared his throat significantly, spinning Maggie and Sam around. With their glares pinned on him, he shrugged delicately. "I'm not sure what I can do to help, children. Where the hell is that worthless angel when you need him?"

Sam made a sound of contempt in the back of his throat. Maggie laid a hand on his arm and addressed the demon. "Crowley, I trust you and maybe I shouldn't… I'm confused, do you have anything to do with these weird phone calls? The fake Winchesters? Because if you do, I swear—"

Sam shrugged her hand off lightly and Maggie swung a look onto him that was both cautioning and mistrustful. Sam's forehead furrowed. "Look. This is kinda freaking me out, too. But I swear, Mags, Shapeshifters or not, I'm the real Sam." He spread his arms wide for a moment, then dropped them to his sides and flicked an encouraging smile toward her. "We're gonna find out what's going on with Dean."

Maggie chewed the inside of her cheek. "I'm scared."

A whipping gale-force of wind surged through the room, reeling Maggie against Sam. He caught her upper arms by instinct and turned them both around to face the newcomer standing poised in the kitchen doorway behind Crowley, head held high. The demon took one look at Castiel and vanished.

Castiel didn't seem to notice. He was transfixed on Sam and Maggie.

"Maggie. This is a test."

Maggie wrenched out of Sam's hold. "Cas? What are you doing to me?"

_They're ghouls, I think._

Maggie stiffened, swinging a glance to all four corners of the room. "Did anyone else hear that?"

Sam's head jerked to the side. "Hear what?"

"Um…nothing." Maggie shook her head, hard.

Sam looked at her, worry plain on his face, worry written in his eyes. Ignoring Castiel completely. "I'm not sure what's going on, Mags. Could be Crowley. Could be Shapeshifters. We're gonna need anything silver you've got, just in case. But we need a way to make sure we know who's who, so whatever these things are, they can't trick us and split us up."

It hit Maggie then, staring into Sam's earnest eyes, that he couldn't see the angel standing in the doorway, glimmering blue eyes reflecting dying light from outdoors.

"Sam, it's Castiel. I have no idea why he's doing it, he says it's a test. This is _not _god-Cas, though. It's this other Castiel. From the past. Or future." Sam's face twitched with uncertainty and Maggie slid the silver bracelet off her wrist, pressing it into his hand. "Here, take this bracelet for now, I'm gonna go look for more silver." She spoke toward the ceiling, "And where the fuck is Dean?"

She'd taken two steps toward the stairs when Castiel spoke again: "I am simply testing your loyalty and skill. This is not all you will face. I suggest you be prepared.  
>I must know if you are ready to handle what I have in store for you."<p>

Gripping the banister, Maggie hunched her shoulders, battling back a wave of rage. "What?" She swung around. "What do you mean by that? Castiel?"

No sign of him. The angel had vanished.

"Uh, is he gone?" Sam asked uneasily.

"As far as I can tell." Maggie shook her head. "Keep an eye out for Crowley, with Castiel gone I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"Here, I'll look for the silver." Sam brushed past her. "Stay here."

Maggie listened to his footsteps clumping overhead, then dropped her chin to her chest and rubbed her temples. She wasn't sure what the worst part of this was: past-or-future Cas, the weird phone calls or the voice in her head.

And just like that, like she'd summoned it, the phone started ringing again.

"Are you kidding me!" Maggie snapped, picking it up with two fingers. The Caller ID was Dean's number, again—surprise, surprise.

Flushed with rage, Maggie answered it. "Listen, you lying son of a—"

"Maggie?" She knew that tone, stopping her rant cold in its tracks. Something told her this wasn't another Ghoul, Shapeshifter prank. "Hey, honey. Um. We... It's a really funky town, you know? I'm eeh... I'm in the basement."

Maggie's eyes flipped wide. _Shit_. "Dean, I'm coming for you!"

A fuzz of static made Maggie's heart skip a beat. "_Dean_?"

"Mags, be _careful_."

An iron fist closed around her throat. "I always am, Dean. Hold on."

The silence was back.

Broken seconds later by Sam coming down the stairs. "Couldn't find anymore silver." He swung around the corner. "So I was thinking. Cas. Why the hell would he—?" Sam misread the devastated expression on Maggie's face, and backpedaled. "All right, look. At this point, it doesn't matter. We need to focus on getting rid of them, we can deal with Castiel later." He carded both hands back through his hair and blew out a heavy breath. "Crap, we could _really _use Dean's help right about now."

The concern in Sam's voice snapped Maggie's mind out of the useless circles it was running, wondering what could possibly happen next. "Sam? I just got a message from him. They took him." Sam blanched, head rocking back slightly. "He said 'It's a really funky town, you know?' Guess what that means." She sat down hard on the edge of the couch. "He's in the basement. We don't know who or what's there with him." She looked up at Sam, helpless, feeling a knot of fear twisting tight in her chest. "What are we gonna do now?"

A wastebasket in the corner went flying, smacking off the wall and bouncing back. Maggie jolted to her feet and Crowley materialized in front of them, face twisted with rage, shouting toward nothing: "Castiel, you stupid, feathery bastard, you'd better stop! Call this off!"

"Crowley!" Maggie snapped, and the demon swung furious eyes onto her. "Why is he doing this? _Why_?"

It didn't need much an explanation, and Maggie knew there would never be one. Angels were angels, they did things for some contrived, falsified purpose and no human would ever be _worthy _of understanding.

Maggie swiped a hand under her eyes, dragging in a straggling breath. "Listen. I'm gonna go save Dean, you check out my house and kill whatever unnatural you meet, could you?" She met Crowley's gaze levelly. The demon rolled his eyes, but didn't protest.

"Is there a problem? Do you need help?"

"Holy—!" Sam spun around. "Would you stop that!"

Castiel cocked his head to one side.

"You can see him this time?" Maggie demanded.

"_This time_?" Castiel echoed blankly.

Maggie's breath rushed out in a sigh of relief, feeling as though the footing was finally stable beneath her feet. This Cas, she knew. This Cas, she could work with. "Cas, I have no idea what's happening. There's another Castiel who says he has something in store for me and he's gonna test me." She looked at Sam, mistrustful and vigilant beside her. "He _is_ testing me now. Dean and Sam came to visit me a couple of hours ago and someone took Dean. We need to save him." She nodded to the demon sulking in the corner. "Crowley's helping us."

Crowley's head snapped up suddenly. "Well, hello, darling."

Cas stepped between Sam, Maggie and the apparition of himself that had rematerialized in the doorway. Sam looked confused, Cas—their Cas—and Crowley, bemused and maybe a bit angry.

The future-or-past Castiel was fixated, blue eyes sparking. "Maggie. Don't be afraid, time will teach you what I meant. You know I would never let anything hurt you. Or Dean." He pressed his lips into a thin line, looking away. "I wish I could tell you more, but I can't. Just…do whatever you do best."

"Castiel." Maggie whispered. "I _want _to understand."

He was already gone.

"Bloody angels." Crowley mumbled. "No offense."

"None taken." Cas relaxed his rigid stance, turning to face them. "I must look into this matter. I will return. Soon."

He disappeared, and Sam didn't hesitate to take charge.

"Okay, look. We need weapons. We only have on angel-killing blade. If this other Castiel is sending his army against us, then we're gonna need a lot more than that. Holy Oil. Enochian sigils inscribed all over the house. Mags, do you still have those can of spray paint Dean used to draw Devil's Traps outside your door?"

"Kitchen pantry." Maggie replied.

"Great. Use those to angel-proof in here."

"And me? Would you like me to just sit on my hands, looking pretty?" Crowley asked lazily.

"No, _you _can help her. One of you takes upstairs, one of you takes downstairs." Sam grabbed Dean's jacket off the couch and fished out the keys. "I'm gonna get stocked."

Five minutes later, Maggie was using the hand-written note Dean had left taped to her fridge when they'd first started dating as a reference, spray-painting Enochian sigils on the kitchen door. One of the perks to Cas's new powers: sigils no longer banished or withheld him. They could let the good in and keep the bad out.

So when she heard movement in the room behind her, she didn't bother to look, at first. Not until the angel—_still an angel_—spoke.

"Maggie. It appears there has been a misunderstanding." Castiel's tone was stricken. "These things that took Dean, whatever they are, I didn't send them. My men are already back with me. Whatever is in the _basement_, I didn't send them. And now Dean is in danger." Maggie didn't answer, didn't even turn to face him, just kept working over the sigil. "If you need my help, pray."

Maggie felt the rush of wind on her back when he was gone; she thumped her forehead against the door and squeezed her eyes shut.

It was too much, too many things piling up. Two Castiels, one present, one either past or future, and Crowley; and Dean missing.

"_Now as I'm trying my best to save Dean, I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass down here.__" Maggie murmured under her breath, socking the empty spray-paint can into the wastebasket._

_Crowley appeared at the top of the stairs above her, leaning his hands heavily on the railing. "_The demon is more trustworthy then the angel, how unexpected." Maggie tilted her head back to glare at him, and he sighed. "But in answer to your earlier question, yes, I'll kill whatever I see in this house. Let's me blow off a bit of steam. Would you like me to get some information out of them, too?"

Maggie nodded. "Just don't kill Castiel. He might like to help, I just prayed." She knuckled her eyes. "Holy shit, we have no idea who or what took Dean. Are you sure it wasn't any of your demons?"

Before Crowley could answer, the door opened and Sam stepped in. Grim and silent at first, he deposited his weapons on the coffee table and started rooting through them. When he finally looked up, his face was chiseled with determination.

"Okay, look. I need you to stay here. I know you want to help Dean, Mags, but whatever these are—ghouls or whatever—they're dangerous, all right? They're scary as hell. And I don't want you in the middle of this." When Maggie's eyes narrowed in protest, Sam straightened and grabbed her shoulder. "I'll get Dean, I swear. Nothing's happening to him while I'm around."

Maggie considered fighting him on that; then again, the last time she'd tried to follow Sam on a hunt, he'd literally tied her to a chair.

"Sam, _be careful_. Dean warned _me_ to be careful."

Sam just smiled and turned away, and the fact that he wouldn't promise anything made Maggie's gut clench.

"I changed me mind!" She stepped closer to him. "I want to go with you! I can do it, Sam, you can't go there alone. Sam, please, let me help!"

Sam dropped his head, hair sliding into his eyes. Then he grabbed his duffle and stepped past her, stopping just long enough to push his hand back through her hair, forcing it off her forehead and rocking her head back with the motion.

Then he was gone, down the steps into the basement.

"Lovely. Goodbyes are always so heartwarming." Crowley yawned. "I'm going to make myself scarce and wait for some unsuspecting little devil to fall right into my trap."

And just like that, he was gone.

Maggie moved back to the task of casing the bottom of the house in Enochian spellwork. She'd almost gotten to the front door when it slid open, sending her scrambling for the gun on the bookshelf.

Two seconds later, she was standing stock-still, staring at the angel that'd first introduced her to the realm of the supernatural: the one who'd saved her life on a whim and started the whole crazy spiral that had led her to Dean and Sam months ago.

"_Helloooo,_ Sunshine! I'm home!" Gabriel leaned his arm against the doorpost above his head, smirking. When Maggie just stared at him, mouth agape, he threw up his hands. "_What_? I figured with all of your other lovely little pals coming out of the woodworks, I would come join them. Being in hiding is boring anyway!"

The immediate question: "_Dean told me you were dead, how are you not dead?_"

"Oof, no need to shout!" Gabriel chided, flattening his hands briefly over his ears. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed to her. "See, that's the thing. Big Brother Luci taught me _all _his tricks. But that was a long time ago. What he didn't know? I've developed a lot of _new _little devices while I've been down here. Such as," He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. "Fake wings?"

That didn't clear up much, but it also wasn't the most pressing subject at hand. "Gabe, something took Dean. We could use your help, honey. He's in the basement, Sam went to get him. _Please_, go help him!"

Gabriel canted his head. "Whose basement? Your basement? 'Cause I smell blood, all right, but it's old. Whatever was down there is _long_ gone. Sam's gone, too. Must've taken the cellar door out. So I guess he found his brother's trail and he's gonna go _diving _in head first, like always. I swear, these people _never learn_."

Maggie just stared at him, feeling the fissures in her composure widening. Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically.

"_All right_, fine, I'll help those two yahoos out." He threw out the sides of his jacket, gave Maggie a look that suggested he was being a real hero in all of this, and backed out the door.

Maggie didn't even fight it a minute later when her phone rang. Part of her felt like she was welcoming it, that chance to find out what was going on.

"Sam's in your closet."

Maggie was done playing games. "_What_? Who are you? Is Dean safe?"

The call cut out. Maggie was about to toss the phone back onto the couch when she saw Cas standing at the foot of the stairs.

"Cas?"

"I can't locate Dean, my other self hid him well." Cas looked like he didn't know whether to be proud or aggravated by this knowledge. "Are you sure the demon has nothing to do with this?" Maggie shook her head mutely and Castiel heaved a sigh. "I shall be watching out for you. The best thing you can do is to play along. Keep together and be careful."

"Wait!" Maggie stepped toward him. "It turned out it wasn't the other Castiel. He doesn't know who or what took Dean. Sam went to save him, but I sent Gabriel over to help Sam." She took a deep breath. "I'm scared, Cas."

Cas's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Only the most powerful creatures could hide something from me. Please ask Crowley to see if any of the high rank demons are planning something. I sent my angels to look into the matter." He shifted from foot to foot. "This is not good. I have some suspicions, a lot of them actually, but all of them are equally unlikely." He blinked, then closed his eyes tightly and touched two fingers to the side of his head. "Gabriel? Brother, is that really you?" He nodded very subtly. "What happened? Why are you here?" He went still. "I understand. We will discuss this later." His eyes flashed open. "I am staying with you, Maggie."

"Wait, you can read other angels' minds?" Maggie demanded.

"All except for my own." Cas lowered himself heavily to the bottom step. For the first time since Maggie had met him, he looked dazed. "Gabriel. I cannot believe it. He was hidden for so long, I truly thought—"

The phone in Maggie's hand buzzed to life. She yanked it up to her ear, closing her eyes. "Hello?"

"If you ever want to see Dean again, you will need to do exactly as I say, or I will kill him without a second thought." A pause. "Are you going to follow my rules?"

At least they were finally making some kind of demands. "Whatever you wish, motherfucker."

The flutter of a trenchcoat brought Maggie's head swinging up. She couldn't see anything, but she could _feel _that presence, somewhere, maybe above them.

"Maggie." Castiel's voice came from nowhere, and Cas adopted an ill expression. "I am in your house now. Where are you? Where's Sam? Something's hiding you both from me."

The sigils. She was already starting to regret that.

"Castiel, the thing that took Dean. It wants me to follow its orders now or Dean dies. What am I supposed to do?"

Castiel appeared in the doorway, the only place not absolutely coated in angelic script, and Maggie turned toward him, meeting his urgent eyes. "Sam went to the basement, but I think he caught Dean's trail and climbed out. I sent Gabriel to go help him."

Castiel nodded and disappeared again, not even questioning Gabriel's presence. _Probably future, then, from after he's revealed himself. Or very far in the past, before he died. Pretended to die._

_Freaking angels. _

The hum of silence broke on the phone line. "Dean _is _going to die." A bout of laughter like nails on a chalkboard brought Maggie's hackles up.

"He's not! You, on the other hand—"

The voice—the ghoul, it had to be—cut her off. "Try the neighbor's basement. Demons hide strange things everywhere. Dean is safe, but Crowley has to explain himself."

Maggie's fingers went numb around the phone. "_Crowley_!"


	2. Chapter 2

The predictable silence lasted for a shorter bout this time, with Maggie's furious snarl not even a fully-faded echo.

"_You _are going to die."

"I'm not, you ass. I have angels on my side."

"That sort of response is not going to help him!" A bated pause followed. "I can hear Sam Winchester's footsteps, but he's not going to find where I have hidden your _beloved _Dean." The malice in the words made Maggie's stomach curl.

"You sick bastard. I'm gonna find you myself."

The ghoul snickered, and the call went dead.

Cas's haunted eyes were fixed on Maggie's face. "I still can't feel them. Whatever has them, I'm afraid it's more than just a ghoul."

"Tell me about it." Maggie rubbed a hand across her forehead and was still staring at the Caller ID on her phone when Sam's name and number flashed across it. She scrambled to pick up. "Sam? Okay, don't freak out, but we've got another player in the mix. It's, um…it's Gabriel."

"Oh, great, now Gabriel is back? That's just—freaking awesome. Mags, you really attract this kinda stuff, huh?" Unbelievably, his distaste made Maggie want to laugh. "Listen, I'm sorry I was kinda short with you back there. I know you want to help, but right now is not the best time. Just—look, stay with Crowley and Gabriel, I'm sending him back your way. You three, keep an eye out for more ghouls. I'm gonna try and grab Dean. You hear me? Stay put."

"Sam, be careful. Gabriel's headed your way. I'm with Cas, it was Crowley all along, Sam. I shouldn't have invited him. I mean… I don't know for sure, but someone told me he'd gonna have to explain himself. Sam. I need to know Dean's okay."

Sam stayed quiet for a heartbeat too long, then said, quietly, "I'll be in touch."

Maggie hung up the phone, bumped it against her forehead and looked at Cas. "What now?"

She felt a brush on her shoulder. "I guess it's best if you follow its orders. I found you. I'm here; I've decided I am going to stay invisible, so to speak, so the enemy can't see me either."

"Oh. Castiel." Maggie flopped down on the armchair and buried her face in her hands. "That's comforting."  
>Maggie couldn't see Castiel's expression, but his silence spoke volumes.<p>

"I _will _protect you Maggie. I know you might not have very much faith in me, but I would never let anything hurt you. Do as the ghouls tell you, I will protect you and help you to save Dean."

And it wasn't as though she had much of a choice. Maggie knew better than the tangle with monsters on her own, and with Sam and Dean…gone, or worse…

"Okay. I don't know who to trust anymore, so I'll trust you. Just…don't let the Winchesters die."

"Maggie." Cas rose from his perch on the stairs. "Do nothing unless I say so.  
>Dean is not going to die, I will not let that happen."<p>

Maggie wondered if it was really possible for Castiel to hide from himself. "Cas, your other self just told me to follow the orders. So I will."

Cas pinched the bridge of his nose, then dropped his arm to his side. "This is rapidly falling out of control. Pray for me if you have any need; I'll be searching for a trace of Sam and Dean."

And just like that, he was gone again. Which meant she was some semblance of alone.

Maggie wandered into the kitchen; the pies were sitting on the counter, the air smelled like coffee and the roast beef casserole she'd heated up for the boys. It'd only been two hours since Sam had texted her, telling her to look out the window, and she'd seen them standing on the doorstep; it felt like days churning past.

"I need a cigarette." Maggie muttered. "And a drink."

She cracked open the fridge and crouched, grabbing a better.

A hand tapped her shoulder, bringing her spinning up onto her feet; in one smooth, painful motion, a hand wrapped tightly around her throat, smashing her back against the wall. She found herself staring at Dean—Dean, with pitiless eyes slanted down and a sharp smile twisting his lips. "I'm here! Get ready to die!"

He backhanded her, snapping her head aside, and Maggie's vision tunneled to black—then swallowed down.

* * *

><p>Lights, sounds and color swirled back into Maggie's world. The first thing she was keenly aware of was the coppery taste of blood in her mouth; her tongue poked out, swiping gingerly on the raw edges of a split lip. A dull, roaring pain was ratcheting behind her right ear.<p>

"Uhf." Maggie heaved herself up by her arms, blinking dizzily. The kitchen was empty; she was alone.

Or not. She could hear footsteps in the living room, and tensed, arms shaking weakly beneath her body.

"—going to answer me? Dammit, Magdalena, it's not me! But if you want to believe that, then, fine." The person—or not—was shuffling away. "I'll take my services, and go."

"C-Crowley!" Maggie croaked. "H-h-help m-me."

For a second she thought he'd already disappeared; then she heard running steps, felt hands grab her shoulders and sweep her up into a sitting position against the wall. "You're a bloody terror, girl."

"Tell me about it." Maggie gagged and spat blood onto the tiled floor.

"Don't move." Crowley ordered, grabbing a rag from the counter and cranking on the sink. Maggie let the steady sound of rushing water fill her ears and quiet her aching head, leaning her head back, eyes closed.

When her phone rang, Maggie's first instinct was to take it and smash it on the floor. She'd had enough of these weird, unexpected phone calls to last a lifetime.

Crowley returned, kneeling in front of her and glancing at the phone beside her. "Aren't you going to get that?"

"No." Maggie said mulishly.

"It's the Sasquatch." Crowley nudged the phone toward her.

"Wait, what?" Maggie grabbed the phone. "_Sam!_"

"'Problem." Sam's voice was choked. "'Bout fifteen ghouls. No Gabriel yet." He trailed off. "Lotta blood. I, uh—really shoulda watched my flanks better." A breathless laugh. "Stupid, stupid—weak-spot."

Maggie's eyes shot wide. "Sam, what's going on?"

She heard Sam pull in an unsteady breath. "Not sure if I'm gonna make it to Dean like this. Gonna try." He made a soft sound of pain. "Tell Gabriel and Castiel to get there. As fast as they can.

"S-sending them now." Maggie said, dropping the phone onto her leg and squeezing her eyes shut. The pain was screaming like wildfire in her head.

"Always the troublemaker." Crowley sighed, dabbing at the cut on Maggie's lip.

She grabbed his wrist. "Crowley. Gabriel and Castiel—both Castiels—they're looking for Dean, but they need to find Sam. I think he's hurt, he needs help. Go."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "You're quite the martyr, my dear."

Maggie was getting used to these beings flashing in and out of existence, but for whatever reason, today it felt like an emptier, wider silence than usual.

She leaned back against the wall, tossing the phone gently from hand to hand and waiting for the bout of unsteadiness to fade. When the world felt like it was aligning again, Maggie sucked in her lower lip and scrolled through her contacts until she located Dean's number.

It seemed to ring forever.

"Well, well. Maggie."

"Is. Dean. Alive." Maggie asked haltingly, her voice tinged with hate.

"As far as I know. But I have a number of ghouls working for me." Maggie could almost hear him shrugging. "I saw you with Gabriel and Crowley. If you think they are going to save you, then you are wrong. You don't even know who I work for!"

"They're not here anymore. Show me your ugly face, you monster, and I'll do what you say." Maggie said shakily.

"Oh, really?" Amused, now. "Look up."

The voice sounded strange, tinny and close.

Maggie picked up her head.

The ghoul knelt, catching hold of her chin and meeting her eyes with a smirk. "Oh, this will be good."

The tip of the knife sinking into her skin sent a razor-wire of pain coiling across Maggie's muscles. She ripped her arm back, but his hand curled around her wrist, holding her in place. The knife sank in deeper, splitting tissue and spitting blood.

Maggie screamed to vent off the pain, glaring pure venom at the creature before her. "_Stop it!_ What do you want, you sick son of a bitch?"

The ghoul's mouth gaped wide, angling for her throat—

And burst, spraying blood across her face. Maggie recoiled, shaking off the detached, gory fingers still rigidly locked around her wrist and staring up through the fine mist of blood toward Cas, standing in the doorway.

He approached her swiftly and knelt, touching two fingers to her forehead. Warmth spread through her body, chasing out the chill of pain. "I told you I was staying."

"Yeah, but then you were leaving." Maggie mumbled, blinking, glad to be rid of the dizziness. "Did you find anything?"

"I caught sight of the ghoul as it was making its way inside toward you." Grabbing her wrist, Cas pulled her to her feet.

"Maggie!" The kitchen door slid all the way open, ushering in Castiel, a panic-stricken look on his face. He hesitated. "I see the situation is in…capable hands."

Maggie half-smiled. "You could say that."

"Your phone is ringing." Cas said helpfully. Maggie snatched it off the floor.

"Sam?"

"Son of a bitch! Mags?" Sam sounded frantic. "There are ghouls on their way to you! I'm coming back for you—just hang on!"

"Sam, stay where you are." Maggie said, struggling to keep her tone even. "Gabriel should be there any moment now. He'll help you. Cas is staying with me, I'm fine now! I swear." She met Castiel's eyes. "He needs you. Go."

Castiel vanished.

"I should assist them." Cas said, almost uneasily. Was it possible for someone in his position to feel _uneasy _about a pack of ghouls? Although, this was bigger than that. Had to be. After all, this thing was hiding Dean from Cas.

"Yes, you should." Maggie said; a cold flush of sweat broke out on the back of her neck, the way it always did right before she got nauseated. She rubbed it away. "They're going to need all the help they can—"

A raw blast of white fire erupted across Maggie's head. She wasn't sure if she screamed, or even if she was still on her feet when she heard a voice clamoring in her head: rocks in a milk pail, tree branches clattering together in the wind.

It scared the hell out of her.

_ Well, then. Now that you know the situation, I guess I'll let you know my name. The name is Adam...as in Adam and Eve. She was the mother of all, and I am the father of all. Understandably, not very happy that you killed her. So it's time for my revenge._

Maggie was only semi-conscious of reaching out blindly with her hand, of Cas grabbing her arm and lowering her to sit at the table.

She squinted her eyes shut. _Sorry to break it to you, bro, but you're gonna die too._

"Maggie." Cas's voice, low and insistent, was so much easier to hear than that _voice _clamoring inside her skull. "What is it?"

"I don't know. Something's not—"

The phone vibrated across the floor. Maggie jerked toward it and a hot spring of tears swamped her eyes; it felt like she had a railroad spike jammed between her ears. "Cas?"

He responded without any other prompting, scooping up the phone and handing it to her. Maggie almost did sob, with relief, when she saw Sam's name.

"Sam? Sweetie? Hang in there, Castiel and Gabe are looking for you."

"Mags." Sam had that tone in his voice, the one he always got when he was a little exasperated and a little affectionate, too. It came out distorted, smacking wet through the speaker. "Don't think—they're gonna be able to find me." He snuffled in a breath. "Crap."

It was all Maggie could do to hold in the heat in her eyes. "Sam. Where are you?"

A weak cough. And then, nothing.

"Cas—" Maggie began, lowering the phone slowly to the tabletop. "Sam."

"I heard." Cas was sitting across from her, still gripping her arm. She was slowly becoming aware of that. "Maggie. What did you hear? What did you _see_?"

"Um, it was—he said he was Father. The Father of All. Adam."

Cas tilted his head. "Not Sam and Dean's Adam?"

"No, not Mulligen. _Father_." She shuddered, the word dripping acid from her tongue. "He says he wants revenge. For what happened to…to Eve."

"And so he forces his way into your mind." Cas's glare intensified. "This creature that is doing this is forgetting one thing. I am a god now." Slowly, his lids hooded, and a faint white glow emanated from beneath his skin, making him look like he was carved from porcelain, iridescent in the dim kitchen. When he picked up his head, the light had concentrated in his luminescent blue eyes. "They are gone now." He stood. "I am going to get Sam."

Maggie looked up at him, bleakly. "Cas, do you really think he's gone? It was _Adam_. The Father of All."

Cas pressed his lips together. "I will return soon."

No sooner had he disappeared than a dark shape appeared in the doorway—and didn't move any further.

"This Enochian spellwork is excellent." Castiel muttered.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Maggie moved to grab a butter knife off the counter, to scrape out the sigils, but Castiel held up a hand.

"It is not of import at this moment. I only came to ensure you had recovered. I am going to help Sam. Stay where you are." He hesitated, mulling. "Or better, go somewhere safe. As long as this god-form or Gabriel is with you, you'll be safe."

Maggie looked at him, wryly. "You really are that _god-form's_ other self, aren't you?" She sank heavily back into the chair. "Cas said that Adam's gone now. So are all the ghouls, I think…"

"Be that as it may. It's safer for you here, under protection." He swept a glance around the room, frowning. "I sent Gabriel back. Why has he not returned?"

Maggie pondered on that one. "Come to think of it, I haven't heard from him since he—" She broke off; Castiel was already gone.

Voice small in the deepening twilight that cloaked the room in shadows, Maggie whispered, "I hope he's all right."

Her eyes slid shut; she listened to the faraway, hollow _click_ of the clock ticking on the wall. That stupid, rust-colored thing Sam had given her because it matched the walls in the kitchen. Sam always noticed stupid stuff like that.

God. And she could still smell Dean's cologne.

She hated waiting. Hated being shunted to the back of the situation while everyone else took control. So she wasn't a hunter; she wasn't contesting that. But at least she knew _some _things, enough to help keep her safe when the boys weren't around. Their absence wasn't a danger to her; it was the worry that was eating away at her insides. That was the part that could hurt the worst.

That, and the sudden, crippling noose of pain that wrapped itself around her head again. She jerked upright as the hissing voice made an unwelcome, unfortunate return:

_I see your godly friend Cas is on the hunt for me, _Adam snickered._ Well. Unless you happen to have some phoenix ash left over from when you murdered Eve, and somehow manage to make me digest it…I won't be dying today._

Clearly. As Cas's attempt had failed.

"No, but I have a god, Adam. Now…beat that." Somehow, saying it aloud rather than thinking it made the words seem stronger. Truer.

Adam snorted. _I'm going to beat you senseless._

_You're not_. Maggie replied, with equal belligerence, and then she added, loudly, "Castiel! He's _alive_!"

It was as if she'd snapped her fingers and summoned him. Cas stepped through the doorway, flicking blood off his fingertips. He looked like he'd gone a few rounds, scuffed and scraped with a dozen rips in his dust-colored trenchcoat. "The ghouls are gone. Adam, on the other hand, is going to be a lot harder to kill."

"You don't say." Maggie stood, grabbing the back of the chair for support; the absence of Adam's voice left a thick, heavy instability between her ears, like she was about to be violently sick. "Cas, where the hell is Sammy? I haven't heard from him for too long."

"It's unclear. He seems to be hidden from me, as well." Cas frowned. "My—other self, as it were, seems to have vanished. Along with Crowley."

"What about Gabriel?"

Cas ignored the question, which raked claws of unease up Maggie's spine. "The important thing now is to find Adam's location. Dean must be with him, and Dean can help us find Sam." His hands clapped down on Maggie's shoulders. "You seem to have forged some sort of psychic bond with him. Can you initiate it?"

"Um." Maggie hesitated on the threshold of that pain that made her feel like someone was mincing her lungs with a can-opener. _And if it was Sam or Dean, you think they would give it a second thought? _"I'll give it a shot."

"I must go search for Crowley and my other self. Something is amiss here." Cas said. "I will be back in a moment."

Maggie turned her back on him before he could go; braced her hands on the edge of the sink, dropped her head and reached out into that ice-cold void inside her mind.

_Adam. You can hear me, you son of a bitch?_

The response, when it came seconds later, was filled with a blunt fury. _Damn you! You've killed all of my ghouls!_

_Troubles of the trade. _Maggie pushed the thought out around the bubble of pain expanding behind her eyes.

She sensed more than heard Adam struggling for control. _You may have a god on your side, but he still needs phoenix ashes to kill me. And you still haven't found Dean yet!_ Gloating. The bastard was _gloating_ over this._ So. What is your next move?_

_First off, _I _didn't do anything, assbutt. But I will. _The fury building in Maggie's chest didn't know anything about caution or endangered respect. _Let Dean go, Adam_.

A soft tap on the small of her back; she wrenched around.

Adam hadn't looked like she'd expected. Younger. He didn't look like the Father of All Monsters, he looked like a kid from a college. Mop of messy reddish-brown hair, big green eyes. He looked like somebody's kid.

Well, duh, Maggie jabbed at herself. He _was_. This was just a vessel. The face underneath had to be ugly as sin.

"Funny how you're brave enough to come out once Cas is gone." She snapped, her back fetching up hard against the edge of the counter.

"And here I thought we could have civilized conversation, face-to-face." Adam snorted.

"Right. You kidnapped _Dean_, you bastard. You've been stabbing me in the brain for the last fifteen minutes. And you sent your little ghoul army to kill me. And my friends. We're not exactly on _speaking terms_."

Adam regarded her, in silence. Then he sniffed and twitched his head. "I have left Dean in the bushes beside your house. He will have a headache when he wakes but should be fine, to my dissatisfaction. But I'm not finished with you, Maggie."

When he looked back at her, the glow of a streetlight from slatted blinds behind caught something inhuman, feral and waxy in his eyes. Maggie stiffened.

"Oh. Are you running away now? I'll _kill_ you for hurting my boyfriend. Keep your eyes open, motherfucker."

Adam's mouth cut back in a dangerous grimace. "You arrogant human swine. You never learn, do you?"

His hand snapped up, moving toward Maggie's throat—

And stopped, intercept by another hand shooting out of the darkness, a strong grip encircling his wrist.

"You," Cas said, in the voice he reserved for the people who had pissed him off the most, "Will. Not. Touch. Her."

He flexed his fingers down, and just like that, Adam was gone.

Cas straightened with a deep breath. "He is not dead, just gone. Adam will be back." He looked around. "Did he not return Sam and Dean to you? I need someone to go back in time and collect the Phoenix ashes. Unless the Winchesters have some."

Great. Because that always went well.

"Dean's in the bushes by my house, I'm on my way to him, Cas." Maggie was two steps for the doorway when she stopped, and glanced back. "Find Sam. He's somewhere…I don't know where. He only said nobody would be able to find him. I have a feeling he really needs our help. She gripped the door until her knuckles jutted out. "Bring him to me, we have to help him. Cas, please…_please_, find Sammy."

"That boy—" Cas began, and then he broke off. "Get to Dean."

Maggie nodded, slipping outside into a cool but not altogether unpleasant night. In fact, with her skin still flushed with adrenaline and sweat, it felt good. Maggie jogged for the back of the house—and stopped, hand slapping flat against the window, as she felt Adam's voice worming its way back into her mind.

_I'm not running away, not yet. _The contempt tasted sour on Maggie's tongue. _Well, now you know how I felt when your _boyfriend_ killed eve. All she was doing was protecting our children and he murdered her! _

_Adam. _Maggie spat back. _Cas kicked you out. Run. Away._

Because if he didn't, Cas would be back. Cas had the Father's scent now, and like a dog, Maggie knew he could follow it. Forever, if he had to. He had unswerving loyalty like that.

And maybe Adam could pick that up from her thoughts, because he went quiet again, and that fuzzy coldness returned. Maggie broke into a run, skirting the edge of the house and almost tripping over two bowlegs sprawling out from under the bush on the corner.

"Dean!" Maggie forced the entangled branches apart, grabbed him under the arms and hauled him out into the open. His greater weight shoved her back-on to a short, wiry tree in the middle of the yard, Dean cradled in her arms, his head on her shoulder.

Maggie's assessment was quick and put together from what little the Winchesters had drilled into her of first aid since they'd met months ago. Dean's face was abraded in some places and gashed in others, with a deep oozing wound on his side. When Maggie pulled up his t-shirt gingerly to investigate, she caught her breath.

That indent in his side could only be broken ribs.

Maggie tugged her fingers through his hair, trying to steady her breathing. "Dean? Can you hear me? Sweetie, come on."

It was the touch or her voice, she wasn't sure; Dean's eyes slid open, freckled with blood spots in the white, and met hers under a fringe of gummy lashes. "Hey. Maggie?" His head shifted slightly in her grip. "Where are we?"

"My house. They brought you back." Maggie knotted her fingers loosely in the hair above his left ear. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Cas couldn't find you. None of us could."

"S'okay, I'm good." Dean said, but his breath was coming in fast, forced whimpers. "Sammy?"

The one question Maggie had been hoping to avoid. "Cas is…he's looking, Dean. He's still looking."

A blank, horrified look filtered into Dean's eyes. "Find him."

"Dean—"

"_Find _him." Dean's voice broke, his head turning toward Maggie's stomach. She could feel the pain, hot, and flooding his skin.

"Cas! Cas, you have to find Adam, he has to know where Sam is!" Maggie didn't tear her gaze from Dean's face, not once, not even when she heard Cas approaching.

"Let me heal him." Cas knelt swiftly, but as he reached out Dean turned over, grabbing Cas by the wrist, eyes sparking, furious.

"Find. My brother, Cas." He said.

Cas looked down with distress at his friend. "I can't feel him, he's out of my reach." He hesitated, raising his head, a dog sniffing the wind. "Or maybe..."

And just like that, he was gone again.

"Cas, do something. Please." Maggie's words, just a strangled whisper, lost as she buried her face in Dean's hair. His hand came up to the side of her neck.

They stayed like that for a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

Fifteen minutes later, a semi-conscious Dean was stirring restlessly on the couch while Maggie grabbed water, painkillers and the first-aid kit from the upstairs bathroom. A glance at her reflection showed her sunken-eyed and hollow-cheeked, Dean's blood smeared on her face and hands.

_ Hell of a night _was usually a sentiment reserved for parties where you got trashed and couldn't remember it the next day. _Hell of a night _was rarely used in casual conversation to infer a night in which your boyfriend was captured and beaten by Ghouls, a mad monster father was hunting you, the first angel to have ever introduced you to the reality of impossible, unnatural things made a return from the grave—those kinds of things just didn't happen.

And Castiel and Crowley were still missing.

Maggie returned to the couch, sat and went to work methodically on cleaning out Dean's gashed face. He barely shifted unless she was picking gravel out of the abrasions; and then it was only to rock his head uneasily away.

And this was the part Maggie hated. When Sam had been taken by a nest of vampires, drained almost dry; that time Dean had showed up with a fractured wrist. The not knowing, every time she watched them walk out that door, if next time it would be just one of them standing there. Glazed, bloodshot eyes, blood on their hands.

_Dean didn't make it._

_ Sammy didn't make it._

Counting heads—make sure there are _two_—every time one of them texted her to say, L_ook out the window, Mags. We're home_.

That was part that killed her.

"Did I not tell you he would be returned to you, alive?"

Maggie's head whipped around so fast, her neck twinged.

Adam leaned against the wall, scuffed up, his shirt torn, a bleeding, smoking cut on his thigh. Arms crossed, he glared at her. At Dean.

Maggie turned on the couch, spreading her arms out, protective, and fierce. "You're not getting your hands on him again."

"No, it would appear not." Adam quirked a brow. "The fight with your god has left me—a bit worse for the wear. I have had enough of the games for today, but I will be seeing you soon, Maggie."

He snapped his fingers, and evaporated.

Maggie pressed her lips together. "Next time we meet, you die."

The soft, muted sounds coming from the couch behind her pulled Maggie's attention back to Dean. At first she thought he was waking up—humming?

His phone was ringing.

Maggie extracted it gently from his back pocket—decent of Adam to return the damn thing—and flipped it open, bringing it to her ear.

"D—D'n." The voice was sick, soft, and wet. "Nggh. H-Help."

"_Sammy!_" Maggie bolted upright, jostling Dean, though not hard enough to wake him. Her relief at hearing Sam, just breathing, just _alive_, was tempered by the stuttering slipperiness of his tone. Blood? "We're coming for you. Hold on, Sammy!"

She clapped the phone shut and dropped her head into her hands. "Cas? Did you hear that? Castiel!"

No way of knowing if he'd been close enough. If he was even all right after his fight with Adam. Maggie looked down at Dean; he was hurt, he was weak, she didn't want to leave him.

She might be the only one who could save Sam. Who could save Cas.

_Adam. Are they even alive. _That infuriating, tunneled silence. _Answer me, you son of a bitch!_

_ Don't bore me with questions you know I won't answer. _The reply, pure venom, oozing into the cracks in Maggie's armor._ You may have your angels and hunters to protect you, but the next time we meet, I _will _be taking my revenge in full force. And you will be on your knees. Because the next time we meet, I will have my alphas by my side.  
><em>Angels. Hunters.

That had to mean Cas, both of them, and Gabriel—that they were still alive.

_Yeah? _Maggie poured all of the contempt into her reply that she possibly could. _Whatever gets you through the night_.

There was a quiet, echoing sound of contempt in her head.

Then, nothing.

Blowing out a breath, Maggie leaned over Dean, resting her forehead against his. He roused slightly at the touch, forehead rocking beneath hers. It felt like Maggie's heart was ripping in two: the part that wanted to get out there, with their dwindling numbers, and look for Sam, for Cas. The part that wanted to stay here and not move, not until Dean was awake and alert and able to protect himself. If Adam came back—

A fluttering of clothing from the corner. Gripping Dean's arm to steady herself, Maggie sat up again.

Cas looked like he was barely keeping his feet. Blood poured from his chest, from his forehead. His blue eyes were dazed, he was swaying back and forth like a ship's topsail in a storm.

And in his arms—though how Cas was carrying all six-foot-four of him, Maggie wasn't sure—was Sam. Bite marks taken out of his neck, his sides, his limbs. Blood caked in his dark hair. He was deathly pale, and deathly still.

"Cas." Maggie rose, slowly, not sure what was holding her back from running to them. Except that Cas looked wired tight, like at the smallest irritation he would explode a hundred different ways.

"The fight drained me. I…can't."

Sam dumped unceremoniously from his arms and onto the hard floor, smacking down with a thump. Cas toppled beside him and lay still.

"_Dean_!" Maggie hit his chest with the back of her hand, and he flinched, eyes kicking open. "Dean, get up!"

She hopped over the coffee table, tumbling to her knees beside Cas, rolling him over and pressing both hands into the wound on his chest that was belching blood. She didn't have to look to know Dean had Sam.

"Cas!" Maggie was almost screaming, screaming in his ear, and his eyes rolled frenetically beneath his lids. "_No_, Cas!"

"Sammy—Sammy, hey!" Dean pulled his brother into his arms, dilated eyes sweeping over the mess that was Sam, all bite-marks and holes. "Oh, son of a bitch, what'd you get yourself into this time? Sam? Stay with me, man!"

"Sam!" Maggie added her voice to his, but she could see he was fading, they both were. She turned back to Cas, leaning in close, grabbing his unshaven cheeks in her hands. "Cas, quick, touch my soul. Castiel, get up and touch my soul_ now_!"

"Maggie!" Dean barked.

Sam was sprawled awkwardly across Dean's lap, his chest on Dean's knees, chin on the crook of his brother's arm. His head picked up, a weak, rocking motion, blood fanning from his lips with every staggered breath.

"Mags—no. Don't. Pl-please." He coughed—it barely passed for a cough, almost a sob. "Please."

"Sam, lay down." Maggie said, frantic. "Castiel's gonna heal you in a minute." She stroked the pad of her thumb across Cas's jaw. "Right, Cas?"

Sam spit blood. "Not—if—you're risking yourself. It's too dan-dangerous." He didn't even seem to notice Dean's hands, tight fists around his jacket. He was earnest, straining with everything he had, and staring at her. "Not for—for me, Mags. I'm begging you. Please. Promised Dean I'd—keep you safe."

"Sammy." Dean's voice caught.

"To hell with that." Maggie muttered, knotting her fingers in the collar of Cas's coat. "Cas, please, _please_, come on!"

His eyes, finally flickering into life, met hers. "I need you to let me...touch it."

"Hell, no!" Dean snarled, lurching forward. "I'll do it!"

"You're already hurt, Dean, it'll kill you! Do you want Sam to die?" Maggie snapped, slinging a glare onto him, and Dean froze. The conflict in his eyes, plain as day: Maggie or Sam.

Maggie made the choice for him. "Give me your belt."

The war ended for Dean the second Sam's back arched into his chest, blood spewing from his mouth. Keeping a hold on Sam with one arm, Dean whipped off his belt with his free hand and handed it to Maggie. Their hands met over soft, pliable leather. There was a fresh wetness in Dean's eyes that made Maggie's heart ache.

"'M'right here, sweetheart." Dean said hoarsely.

Maggie nodded, sliding the belt from his grasp.

Castiel reached for her, hand flat on her sternum, just beneath her breasts. "Don't move or you _will_ blow up."

"That's blunt." Dean muttered, arms tightening around Sam as he bucked, spitting up more blood. "Hang in there, Sammy." His eyes never moved from Maggie's face.

"I won't." Maggie said resolutely. "Just do it." She doubled the belt over and slung it in her mouth, teeth dipping into leather. Met Dean's eyes, and grabbed the front of Cas's jacket with both hands.

None of the pain she'd felt from Adam's infiltrations was anything like this; like someone had poured liquid sunlight, hot and red, into her veins. Like every blood-cell in her body was boiling, all at once. Like _dying_.

She arched down into herself and screamed, fingers torquing Cas's jacket so that, if she'd been aware of anything outside of the pain, she might've been afraid she'd strangle him. But his hand didn't move and she didn't move, not more than a hairsbreadth even though her muscles rippled with the urge to do a spasmodic dance, to pull her away from Cas's touch and the pain it brought, the agony that reached a crescendo beyond anything she'd ever known before.

And then, just as fast, it sucked out. Cas's hand retreated and Maggie slumped, her vision coloring with splotches of gray.

Floating. For a long time.

Whispers, on the edges of her mind.

Adam, sending something. For her. And for Sam.

_Hellhounds_.

…_You fucker._

"Crowley," Maggie said—or thought she said. "Keep your dogs away from me, and watch out for them. That filthy son of a bitch is messing with them."

_Oh, they are not Crowley's hell hounds! They are mine...and mine are bigger._

_I'm not scared._

I'm not…

Not scared.

Finally, _not scared_.

_Sam's okay. Cas is okay. Dean is, too._

She felt warmth, sweaty, wet warmth, on her cheeks. "Mag—Maggie! Hey! Hey, hey, hey! C'mon back!" Something flicked her face. "Maggie!"

Her eyes bolted open.

She was on the couch—when had she moved? Strong arms around her, a warm chest rising and falling against her elbow, her arm pinned between his body and hers. _Dean_. He was holding her face, too, in an awkward, angled position. His anxious eyes searching hers as she came around.

"Son of a bitch." Dean breathed, dropping his head for a second, then meeting her gaze. "You back with us?"

"I…think so?" Her voice broke, turning the word into a question, and Dean smiled, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Hey," His breath smelled like blood and coffee. Not pleasant, but she'd take it. "I ever tell you, you look pretty smokin' when you're helping save lives."

"Let me help more often, then." Maggie hinted.

"Yeah, we'll see." Dean looked past her. "Sammy, you okay?"

Maggie heard a muffled '_uh-huh' _that speared her through with relief and let her relax in Dean's grip. Dean loosened his hold on her to rub his eye with the heel of his hand, groaning.

"Dean? Are you okay?" Maggie asked, pulling herself up a little bit.

"My head, God!" Dean let go of her and leaned over, fists to his forehead. "That son of a bitch!

"Sam's okay, I'm okay, Cas is okay. You can relax." Maggie said. "Baby, come here." She wrapped her arms around him, her cheek on his shoulder, eyes closed. "I was so scared."

Dean reached around, gripped her arm.

It said more than words ever could

Sam pulled himself up onto one elbow; still pale, and drenched in his own blood, but it didn't look like he was bleeding out anymore. Cas had mended him.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked, and Dean just grunted. Sam's eyes narrowed. "_Dean_?"

"He's okay." Maggie assured him. "Gabriel, Castiel and Crowley disappeared…God knows when. Adam, the father of all—that's who took Dean and created all those ghouls—he keeps sending me telepathic messages, though. And hellhounds."

Dean's head yanked up. "_Hellhounds_?"

"I think so. I…I heard him say it. After Cas touch my soul."

"So he knocked you into some kinda psychic trance?" Dean glared at Cas. "What the hell, man?"

"Dean, it was happening before Cas ever touched me. Since," She tried to think back, everything got tangled somewhere around a Dean Ghoul backhanding her. And where the hell had that thing even gone? "Since I got that first phone call, I think. I remember hearing a voice…something tell me about the ghouls."

"Oh." Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry, Cas."

"It's forgotten." Cas straightened with a warm smile for each of them. "I'm glad to see you're all right. All of you. I'll get some of my angels to take care of the hellhounds." He nodded to Maggie. "If you don't mind, I need a word with Sam and Dean, alone."

Maggie extricated herself from Dean, ignoring his disappointed expression, and limped for the kitchen; her chest felt like someone had been sitting on it. She stopped just long enough to run the back of her hand down Sam's bloodstained cheek, earning a soft smile from him. Then she shut the door and went to the sink.

The tap water tasted like minerals and was too warm, but she slugged back two full glasses of it before she felt satisfied. Then she was left staring out the window, ignoring the hushed voices coming from the living room.

And that was when she saw them; because they were after her.

Hellhounds, Adam's warrior canines, poised up and down the street in front of the house. Dean had never told her about them, about what they looked like; too gruesome, too disturbing, not a memory he broached even with Sam.

Maggie could see why.

Blackish-green skin sloughing off, jaws half-rotted, but full of razor-sharp teeth. Sunken, pitiless red-dot eyes, their saliva hanging in yellow ropes and dripping down nearly-hairless skin, burned and freckled with pustules.

The sight alone made her want to gag.

Moreso because Adam had sent them _for her_. And for Sam.

And that was when they glimmered on the edges of her vision; not a sight, maybe not even a thought.

But—angels. A battalion, summoned by thought from Castiel. She could feel their raw energy hovering just outside the window, making the glass vibrate, just a little. They were there, and they were waiting.

Maggie's throat noosed with dread.

She turned away when the first angel smacked into the first Hellhound, clapping her hands to her ears to mask the screeching.

_My fault, my fault, we're the reason they're here, the reason those angels have to die_. Cas said something, out in the living room, and Dean laughed.

Sam didn't, because Sam could hear. He knew.

Adam's hellhounds. Here for them.

It had to stop. It had to stop now, no matter what that took.

Even if it meant calling Adam in.

When the door opened to the kitchen, she was already running. Maggie almost tripped her way toward Cas, and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you, Cas. You're the best ang—god ever. Thank you." She squeezed him tight. "Awkward?" She glanced up at his blank, bemused face, "Not at all," and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, Cas."

"Maggie, you love _everybody_." Dean put in.

Tensed for a minute, Cas finally relaxed, and returned the embrace. "This is odd... but nice, very nice. Thank you. This is the first time somebody has done this to me." He patted her hair. "Everything has been taken care of, you and the Winchesters are safe now." He set Maggie back at arm's length. "I need you to get as much information as possible from Adam. Find out what is this all about."

So he knew. He had to know what was going on outside.

"I'm gonna talk to him now, Cas. I saw the hellhounds. I saw your angels fighting them. It's all my fault, Cas. It's all my fault."

Cas looked out the window, a brief flicker of pain crossing his face. "I will see to this. Go back with Sam and Dean."

And he disappeared.

Maggie leaned against the doorpost; watching Sam, first, the way his eyes were glued to the floor but his head was cocked. Listening to something. Dean was rubbing his temples lightly.

There was an awkward pause; then Sam cleared his throat.

"I—I guess I missed a lot while I was down for the count, huh?" He scrubbed his fist against his forehead. "Guh. I feel like I got hit by a freight train." Dean made a harsh sound in his throat, and Sam pinned a glare on him, with no vigor behind it. "Dean, I'm fine. Stop worrying about me, man. I'm just glad that son of a bitch didn't kill you." He fell quiet, for a minute, eyes averting. "Sorry I didn't come for you sooner." When Dean didn't answer, Sam lifted his eyes, confusion crinkling his forehead. "Wait. Hellhounds. What're they after?"

Maggie opened her mouth to answer—

And the voice nailed itself back into her head. _I've spoken to one of my subordinates, and it's raised some doubts._ _Tell me the truth, Maggie: did Dean kill Eve in cold blood? Or self defense?_

"Would you stop that!" Maggie shrieked, bringing the attention of both Winchesters directly onto her. She tried to focus herself, shutting out their stares.

_He never wanted to kill her, Adam, it was self defense only. What would you do if you were in his shoes?_

_But why did he even go looking for Eve? None of this is making sense to me!  
>Why look for her if not to kill her?<em>

_They didn't have much choice, it was all Crowley. It was all…Crowley…_

A first spark of something ugly and angry kindled in Maggie's chest.

_Crowley? _There was a prolonged, profoundly weighted silence. And Maggie realized that the world outside the house was holding its breath. No more Hellhounds. No more angels. Just quiet. The kind of quiet that was waiting for something. _But he lead me to believe it was all Dean…?_ _If you are being truthful with me, then I have put you through all this for nothing!_

"He _what_?" Maggie burst out, and Dean actually jumped. "Oh, that son of a bitch, _I swear_."

"Mags?" Sam asked, rising slowly to his feet. "What's going on?"

Maggie trudged to the couch and fell into it, leaning heavily against Dean's side. The arm he slung around her waist was protective and comforting. "Hellhounds are after me. After both of us, I think. Cas promised to take care of them. I'm telepathically talking to Adam as we speak." She met Sam's stricken gaze. "Sam, did you _want _to kill Eve or was it self defense?"

Sam's face hardened.

"I'm a hunter, Mags." He gave her a bitchface, the kind that under most circumstances would've been hilarious. But not now. Not tonight. "Yeah. I wanted her dead. If Dean hadn't done it, I'd have found a way to. And you can tell Adam I'm not sorry for what I am, either."

"No." Maggie replied, resolutely. "No, I'm gonna lie. I don't know whether to trust Adam with this, but he said he'd done all this because Crowley told him to get revenge on Dean." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "So here we are, in trouble because of our dear king, _again_." She dropped her hand, and turned to look at Dean, to meet his eyes. "I want to protect you."

"Aw, sweetheart, I've been takin' care'a me and Sam for a long time. I think we can handle this prick." Dean lounged back, draping an arm along the back of the couch. "I say, bring it."

"Look." Sam interjected. "Trust him, or don't, it's up to you, Mags. But Dean and I are probably gonna have to take him down, too." He turned away, walked toward the door, ripping his hands back through his hair. "Listen, I need to get out. Take a walk. Clear my head. I've got some—some stuff I gotta think about."

Which worked for Maggie. It would give her a chance to invite Adam in. Meet with him. Try to sort things out. And as long as the Hellhounds were gone, Sam wouldn't be in danger. He might even be safer out there than in here.

"You should take Dean with you, I need to meet someone. Just…just come back soon."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait. Meet with _who_?" Dean sat up straight again. "Not that friggin' Father, right?" When Maggie didn't answer, he gripped her shoulder. "You think I'm leaving?"

"Dean's staying with you." Sam said curtly. "And Dean, if you try to follow me, I swear to God I'll kick your ass, man. I need to figure some things out. Alone."

For the first time since Cas had healed them, Maggie felt her stomach nosedive. "Sam, I don't like it. Where are you going?" He was already out, slamming the door behind him. "Sam!"

"Aw, crap. What a bitch." Dean got to his feet. Stopped. Hackles up.

Adam stood in the doorway Sam had just vacated. Face calm, smoother than Maggie had seen it before.

"Dean. Easy." She said, before he could fly off the handle and into attack mode.

"I am unsure what to believe right now. I have sent my hellhounds away." He looked at Dean, eyes hooded, mistrustful. "Dean Winchester. I know that you are not sorry for what you did. But I want to know the reason for it. Eve never harmed you or your brother. So, why?"

Dean looked like he had a thousand retorts for that. None of them would move the conversation in the right direction.

Maggie laid a hand back on his chest. "You know Crowley. He wanted her alive, but I don't think you wanna know what he would do to her if he got her. Crowley wanted purgatory. He wanted to torture Eve until she told him where purgatory is, and then kill her. She would have died anyway, Adam, because she came to this world. Even though she died, at least she died quick."

Dean snorted quietly, but his rigid muscles loosened a bit under Maggie's hand.

Adam's eyes glistened in the lamplight. "So...it was a mercy killing?"

"More or less." Dean growled.

Adam passed a hand down his face. "I thought that you did it out of spite! I feel so foolish now, allowing a demon to manipulate me like that."

"They could have given her to Crowley, but they didn't." Maggie added.

It was the straw to break the camel's back, so speak. Adam's head lifted, regret flashing in his eyes. "Please accept my deepest apologies for what I have done, it was never my intention to hurt innocent people." He grasped her hand, and knelt, eliciting a snarl of distaste from a still-frozen Dean. "I am in your debt, Maggie. Until it has been cleared."

Maggie tugged her hand free. "Adam, you put me and my closest friends through hell today. What if someone innocent had gotten killed?" The Father did not meet her eyes. "Stand up now, I'm not your god, don't kneel before me. But I'll remember that. One day I might need your help."

Father nodded. "Dean, on behalf of yourself, and for your brother as well, please accept my apology."

"I don't think s—"

Maggie jabbed him in the ribs.

"Ow! Geeze, you gotta beat a man while he's hurt?" Dean massaged his side and Maggie raised her eyebrows. Dean frowned, rolled his eyes. "All right! Fine. Apology…accepted." He looked away. "Don't expect me to shake your hand, or anything. You already beat the crap out of me today."

Adam's lips quirked. "Well. I am sorry for that and am thankful I didn't do any permanent damage." He stood. "If you ever need my help, I am just one telepathic message away." He tapped Maggie's forehead with two fingers. "Our minds are linked now, but only when you allow it. I won't be spying on you. I am a creature of my word."

Maggie wasn't sure about that. This whole thing felt a little convenient, a little too easy. But if it would buy them just a few hours' reprieve, she was willing to play along. At least for now. "Wow, you've changed. Thanks Adam. Drop by whenever you like!"

A perfunctory nod. "I hope I can prove that to you. I will leave you now, I can see that you and the Winchesters will need to talk." He paused. "Know that I was acting on blind anger...but you have opened my eyes to the truth. I'm not as evil as people believe."

Maggie's reply, a little more sincere this time: "I hope you're not. I really hope you're not a monster."

Adam smirked. "Well, I wouldn't go that far."

His jaws gaped in an inhumanly wide yawn, baring needle-sharp teeth. Dean wrenched Maggie back, but Adam was already gone.

And behind him was Sam, coming up the drive with his hands in his pockets; hair wind-tousled, expression grave.

"Hey, Sam, Maggie got Adam to call off the dogs!" Dean arranged his somber expression into a grin.

"That's great." Sam's voice was flat, and soft.

Dean looked at him for a second, reading him like a book. "Whelp," Dean stretched. "I'm gonna go get some pudding." He headed for the kitchen, shutting the door behind him.

Sam's gaze lifted to Maggie's, so lost and uncertain that it punched her in the heart. "Mags. We need to talk."


	4. Chapter 4

_Technically_, this is the end of this hilarious, wild whirlwind of a story! But I'm seeing stirrings in the RP that suggest this is an ongoing plot, so I added a bit about Adam at the end and we'll see what happens. As it is, the story could end here. But its future is in limbo!

To everyone who's reading it-you guys know who you are-you're all amazing!

* * *

><p>They sat on the couch, facing each other; Maggie leaning back against the pillows and Sam sitting forward, plucking at a loose thread on the cushion. This was the same couch he'd slept on when Dean had brought him over from the hospital after the vampire attack; same couch where he'd crashed the first time they'd met.<p>

He'd never looked less happy to be there.

"What's going on, Sam?" Maggie asked.

"Can you just," Sam hesitated. "Just let me get this all out at once. Okay?"

Something told Maggie she didn't want to hear this. That she'd be better off going after Dean, stealing a bite of his pudding, trying to cover up the travesty of the day.

But instead she found herself saying, "Sure."

Sam took a deep breath. "Look. What happened today…I mean, Dean and I were just stopping by for a few hours before a hunt, right? And look what happened. Ghouls, the…Father of All?" He met her gaze. Unflinching. "They hurt you, Mags. And all those Hellhounds, who knows what coulda happened if Adam hadn't called them off. I watched those things rip Dean apart. What if that'd happened to you?"

"Sam, that's not—"

"I don't like this, Mags. I don't like how much danger you're in every time we're around." He broke off for a few seconds, looking out the window into the black-as-tar night. "Dean's gotta make his own choice on this. But I'm thinking…I dunno. Might be a good idea for me to drop off the map for a while. Steer clear of you, of…everyone." He kept fiddling with the thread, spinning it apart. "If Dean can't handle that, we can always split up for a while, take on different hunts. Dean's strong, he's…the best there is. Better than Dad, better than anyone. He could handle it." He finally looked up, eyes glassy with exhaustion. "I dunno. I'm still working it out."

And Maggie's heart started fissuring. "You might be strong enough to stay away from me. Dean might be strong enough to do it too, but what about me? I'm not strong enough, Sam." She leaned toward him, fierce, gripping the back of the couch with one hand. "And don't you think running away is just an easy way out?"

He stared at her. Stricken. She'd hit him below the belt and she knew it. But he was talking from a sense of guilt he hadn't had a chance to sleep on, or really think over. And that was always a bad thing. He needed to _wake up_.

"I don't know," Maggie persisted. "If Adam changes his mind and goes after me again, and you won't be anywhere near to save me…you know what happens then. You'll lose me forever." She paused. "I may be your weakness, but I'm safer with you around."

Sam carded a hand through his hair. "Son of a bitch, Mags, I just don't know. Every single person we've ever let in, every time they get close, somebody gets hurt. Lisa and Ben. Jessica. And if you've got Cas, Gabriel, hell, even Crowley on your side, maybe you don't need the Winchesters. Y'know, we're just human, it's not like we have the kinda…cosmic powers it takes to keep somebody safe all the time." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dean's gonna kill me just for thinking about this."

Maggie chewed the inside of her cheek. It sounded like Sam had done a _lot _of thinking on that walk. And something Dean had told her, something she'd learned for herself, over and over again, was that Sam making up his mind was like Sam shoving his feet into wet cement. He'd never budge. Not ever.

And pushing against him would only fracture their friendship. Would only make him less her brother.

"I'm not gonna stop you, Sam. I love you too much." His head snapped up, and Maggie pressed her lips together, turned them down at the corners, and shrugged. "I love Dean too much. But if you leave…do you promise to visit me every now and then in the mental hospital? Because I'm gonna go crazy soon after you leave."

Unbelievably, Sam smiled. "Mags, you're not gonna go crazy. You're a lot stronger than you think. But look, we gotta talk to Dean, all right? See what he thinks. He's as much as part of this as you and me."

He sounded so final. Like he'd already made up his mind.

Maggie's throat constricted, pulling tight against her eyes. "I can't believe you want to give me up like that, Sam…"

"I don't! You think this is easy?" Sam's face flushed with anger. "This is the same thing Dean and I were trying to talk our mom into. Leaving dad would've been hell for her. But it could've saved a lot of lives, Mags! And I'm just trying to save yours." He cupped his face in his hands, then looked at her again. "I promised Dean, first time he told me you two were together: I'd never let him lose you like I lost Jessica. So if Dean stays with you, then I go. I draw them off. This crap always kind of floats around me, anyway. You, Dean…you'd be safer if you didn't have Lucifer or Adam or God knows what else on your asses. Because of me." He spread his arms wide in a shrug. "But if Dean's got a solution, I'd love to hear it. I really would. 'Cause this? This is killing me."

"You sound pretty sure, all things considered." Maggie said.

Rather than sparking Sam's anger, the words seemed to soften it. "You think I want to lose the only family I've got? You and Dean and Bobby and Cas, that's it. That's it for me. And I don't want to lose any of you. I'm just—I'm sick of seeing people get hurt because this job follows us home."

"It's never been your fault, Sam. Never. And it never will be!" Maggie insisted when he turned his face away. "Monsters are everywhere, they're not only around you! Everyone knows how dangerous the job of a hunter is. You knew what you're going into, but you also know you're good at it." She reached over, grabbed his face in her hands, forced him to look at her. "I will _never_ be safer without you around, Sam. And Dean…I'm not you, I'm not his little brother he loves so much, Sam. I'm not enough to make him happy. If you leave, we'll never be happy. Ever. Not without you."

Sam grabbed her wrist, pushed her hands away, and sat back, leaning his palm against his forehead. Maggie stared at the door; embarrassed that the tears she'd been fighting all day were finally leaking out. Now. After everything. "Now this is killing _me._ I knew the day would come. But not after what we've been through today…"

"Maggie." Dean's voice, from the kitchen, captured both of their gazes. He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, chin down. Quiet. Maggie wondered how long he'd been standing there. "Sam is right. You're always gonna be in danger when we're around."

Maggie glared at him even though her eyes were stinging. _Whose side are you on, buddy?_

Dean didn't flinch away from her thunderous expression "But I can't leave you just like that. I can't go on a hunt without going insane knowing you're away. I can't leave knowing I'm not gonna see you for months. I can't stand days, and we're talking _months, _here."

Well, that was pretty much the most honesty she'd ever gotten out of him. Maggie just stared at him. Wondering if her mouth was hanging open.

Dean scooted his way onto the couch, draping an arm around her shoulders. "I'm trouble, girl, I warned you the day I met you and you still wanted to talk to me. That's why I love you. You are stronger than you think, just like Sammy said."

Maggie glanced at Sam, and he smiled, a wet, puppy smile.

"But Sam." Dean added, catching his brother's eyes. "I can't leave her here. I can't. I can't let you go either. We're gonna have to be careful. More careful than we were today. We're hunters, Sammy. We love what we do, we can protect her. Cas'll help us. We'll do our jobs just like we've done so far. We stay with Maggie."

"The family that slays together, stays together, huh?" Sam said, and for some reason that cracked Dean up. It had to be a Winchester thing. "All right, Dean. You call the shots. But you both gotta promise me something."

Maggie turned, huddled against Dean's side, to look at him. "What's that, Sam?"

His mouth opened. He stared at them.

And snapped it shut. "Nevermind." He shucked off his jacket. "Look, I'm pretty wiped out. Think you could let me have the couch?"

His dismissal hurt worse than the rest of it. But Maggie didn't fight it when Dean tugged her to her feet. "Yeah, get some sleep, bro. You need a shower, too, you smell like blood and piss."

"Thanks." Sam sat down, hanging his wrists on his knees.

Maggie leaned down and kissed his hair. "Goodnight, Sammy."

"'Night." He said, softly.

Maggie was at the base of the stairs when she looked back, saw Dean scruffle up Sam's hair, and then he followed her upstairs. Sam laid down, arm curled under his head.

Maggie felt the worry for him eating her from the inside out.

They ended up in Maggie's bed, staining the clean white sheets with flecks of blood from their clothes. Maggie stared out the window, heard neighborhood dogs barking and felt her head spinning. With everything that had happened. With the prospect of losing Sam.

"Hey. C'mere." Dean grabbed her waist and hauled her toward him, her back to his chest. Maggie closed her eyes.

"Do you really think he'll do it? Leave us?"

"Who, Sam?" Dean sounded nonchalant…like he wasn't thinking the same thing. "Nah. He talks a big talk, but he knows where his heart's at. After everything that happened, he's not goin' anywhere."

"And if he did?" Maggie craned her head back to meet his gaze. "Would you go with him?"

"Is this that, 'make your choice, me or him' speech that all the girls do?"

"No," Maggie shook her head. "Just wondering if I'd have to kick you out or if you'd follow him on your own."

Dean hesitated. "Yeah. I'd go with him. And I'd find a way to work things out with you."

The silence was breathable, and welcome.

"Can I ask you something, Dean?"

"Just did, sweetcheeks."

She rolled her eyes. "When we met in that diner. During that hunt. What made you notice me? I was just another girl."

"I got a thing for redheads."

"Dean, I'm serious."

There was another pause. "Truth is, you reading that stupid book on ghosts, I dunno…I just wanted to talk to somebody who'd get it. Didn't figure you'd _get _it this much. Or that you'd met friggin' _Gabriel _as a kid. Small world, huh?"

"I guess I owe him for that."

"Cas says he's back."

"Yes. He is."

"Figured. He was too annoying to die."

Maggie laughed, snuggling back against his chest. "For the record? I'm glad you and Sam didn't die today."

"You and me both." Dean nuzzled her hair. "Still gotta work things out with Crowley. And I don't trust that Adam guy."

"Me, either. At least, not totally. Things still don't make sense." Maggie admitted. "But if it'll buy us some time? I'll believe anything, at this point."

"'Kay. So, you believe that I love you?"

"Hmm." Maggie turned toward him, propped up on her elbow. "With the way you're always leaving, Winchester? _That_, I might need some convincing on."

Dean smirked. "Hey, I keep coming back, don't I?"

He kissed her; and rolled over, pulling her with him, so she was laying with her head on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat.

"By the way." She said after a minute. "My hair. It's orangeish-red."

Dean laughed. "My mistake. It's still sexy as hell." He stroked that orangeish-red mop out of her eyes.

And Maggie missed whatever he said after that, because she was already asleep.

* * *

><p>Up and awake a little after sunrise, Maggie went down the list of chores: make coffee. Make breakfast. Clean blood off the floor. Study for her final exam.<p>

She was just finishing up cleaning the kitchen when she heard Dean moving around; going in and out, throwing the duffle and weapons into the trunk. It squeezed at her heart, knowing they'd be gone for a few weeks this time. Tennessee was a long ways away, a lot farther than she liked, and they wouldn't be able to stay in touch, either.

Dean came into the kitchen, first; coffee, pie, cereal, more pie for the road. Maggie sat and flipped through a book with her foot on Dean's knee, and tried not to worry about the fact that Sam never came in. Not once.

Finally, Dean polished off the pie, leaned over and kissed her.

"Guess I'll see you in a few weeks." He scissored her bangs off her forehead and met her eyes. "You take care of yourself, Maggie. You need anything, call Cas. All right? He can probably get a message to us."

"I'm sure he can." Maggie rested her forehead against his. "You boys…be careful. Please. Those werewolves are bad news."

"Ha! Buncha wolves is a piece'a cake for us." Dean shoved his chair back and got up. "Guess Sam's waiting out in the car."

Battling off her disappointment, Maggie nodded. "Love you."

Dean tossed a grin over his shoulder. "Yup."

And he was gone.

Maggie flopped back in the chair with a sigh.

A hand gripped the back of her neck, making her jump. "Maggie? What happened yesterday? Are you all right, kitten?"

Just the demon she wanted to strangle.

Maggie twisted around in the chair, glaring pure venom at Crowley. "Yeah, I'm fine. No thanks to you." Crowley looked taken aback and Maggie lurched to her feet, jabbing him in the chest. "That was Adam, father of all, who was after us. But I'm sure you know the guy. He says that you told him Dean had killed Eve in cold blood, but you forgot to mention he saved her from what you were about to do."

Crowley backed up against the fridge and Maggie was right in his face, almost yelling but not quite:

"Crowley, I could have _died_ in here yesterday. I had _hellhounds_ chasing me.

And worst of all, I'm about to lose Sam because he's convinced it's all his fault. So thank you, king, yesterday was full of adventures!" She spat the last three words and slapped him.

Crowley grabbed his stinging cheek. And for once, appeared at a loss for words.

Then the anger surged back in. "Why are all of you so convinced that it was my fault? I had _nothing _to do with any of this, in fact, the reason I disappeared was because I was being attacked. One second I was with you and the other I was tied up in an abandoned shack surrounded by ghouls, so don't point fingers at me, Kitten. You know good and well that I would have died to keep you safe. If Sammy thinks that him leaving you will make you safe then he's even stupider then I thought."

Maggie stared at him; and felt the edge sloughing off her anger. "Adam told me that he had talked to you. And that you had told him to attack me, because I'm Dean's weakness. I don't know who to trust, I'm so confused…"

"I never even met with the bastard!" Crowley snarled. "Magdalena, when are you going to understand...apparently you're a weakness of mine too, kitten. I spent all night tied up and tortured. When you got the ghouls off your back they just disappeared and left me in that fucking shack! Meg of all people was the one who helped break me out! I promise you darling, if there's one person you can trust, it's me."

Maggie went back to her chair, sank into it, pillowed her face in her hands. "I don't know, man…you've got to understand me, there's too many people around claiming they care about me. There's someone who really doesn't and I need to find out who that is

"I can understand that, Kitten." Crowley rolled his eyes. "I just wish you would trust me."

"That might take some time. Last night was hell." She glanced up at Crowley. "Since Meg saved you, are you gonna stop going after her and let her go?"

"Well, until you sort that out." Crowley said blandly. "As for Meg. Yes, I suppose I'll have to grant her clemency, for now, but if she pisses me off she won't get a second chance."

"Well then, at least now she's forced to be nice to me." Maggie grinned. "And the Winchesters."

Crowley lifted an eyebrow. "Wouldn't be too sure of that."

Maggie blinked. "Wait. What do you—?"

"Tah."

Crowley vanished.

"Still a demon!" Maggie snapped at thin air. "Stupid, freaking…"

"Dicks?"

"Holy—!" Maggie almost knocked her chair over, glancing at the doorway. "What _is _this, 'Drop In and Give Maggie A Heart Attack Day'?"

Gabriel grinned. "Sorry sweet thing, as soon as I exposed myself I got a call from Heaven. I never thought they were gonna let me out of there." He shrugged off the doorpost and fell into the chair in front of her. "I was _just _waiting for those two to leave. Then Crowley showed up. Sticky, messy stuff." He kicked his feet up on the table. "I hope Dean-o is alright. Couldn't let anything happen to him, his moose brother might go crazy. Although, I'm sure he's not the only one who would go flying off the deep end."

He gave her a significant look.

Maggie told him the condensed version, from Adam to Winchester. Gabriel listened intently, and then nodded.

"Well, _that just figures_." He grabbed a piece of pie out of the box and started munching, pointing it toward her. "You got wrapped up in a whole _world _of trouble, sunshine. And I bet it's not half over."

"Comforting, Gabe. Really."

"Hey, I'm the one who pulled you into this world in the first place. I gotta be _straight _with ya, here." He stood up, dusting the crumbs off his pants. "Anyway! Cas has got me runnin' around like a chicken with its head cut off. So I don't really have time to talk. Just wanted to check in."

"Wait!" Maggie said as the angel strode for the door. He stopped, looking back. "Can I trust Crowley? Or Adam? Can I trust _any _of them?"

For once, Gabriel's face was serious. Dead serious. "Trust the humans, Maggie."

With a fluster of invisible wings, he was gone.

The only thing that Maggie figured would hold her attention was studying. She flipped her book open on the table and tried to dig her mind into it.

Fifteen minutes later, she was interrupted by a knock on the doorpost.

"Go. Away." She said.

"Well, I…kinda forgot to say goodbye."

Maggie looked up, fast, angling around in her seat.

Sam leaned into the room, an impish smile on his face.

"You came back!" Maggie exclaimed.

"Dean sorta made me." Sam admitted, walking in, pulling out a chair and sitting next to her. "So, I guess we probably need to talk, huh? Now that the dust's settled, I mean. I know you're trying to study, I just—feel like crap about the way I handled things yesterday." He shrugged one shoulder. "Mags, I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

She had to grin. Had to. "Sam, I couldn't stay mad with you for two days, of course I forgive you." She pushed her book away and propped her elbow on the table. "So you're not leaving me _and Dean_, are you?" Before he could answer, she added, "Please, stay with us, we're all gonna be safer together. I don't wanna lose you, nor does Dean want to let you go away. Just…just stay, Sammy."

Sam nodded and pulled a smile that wasn't exactly a real smile. But it was close. "Yeah, Mags. I'm staying. I know it's dangerous, and...I know it's probably not gonna get easier, no matter how long we do this. But the fact is, y'know, we've lost just about everything. Walking away from family, that's not how dad taught us to do things. Not the way Dean taught me, either." He shrugged. "More than that, I guess I'm just not that kinda guy." He glanced out the window, the same window where Maggie had seen the hellhounds the night before. "Sometimes, I'd like to be. I think it'd be easier. But then I look at the way I see Dean with you…the way was sitting with you in his arms on that couch…and that's happiness. It's not," Another shrug. "It's not perfect. It's not Stanford, it's not what I thought happiness was when I was a kid. But you, and Dean, and Cas and Bobby—being with you guys. I dunno. It's the only happy thing I've got left." He met her eyes, forehead crinkling with sincerity. "So I'm staying. You can count on it."

Maggie smiled, softly. "I knew you'd stay, Sam. I just knew it. I couldn't stand the thought of you being away…without Dean. Without me. I'm so happy you're staying. And remember my promise? Just come back from the hunt and I'll make that week off the best week in your entire life, Sammy."

That got a genuine grin out of Sam. _Castles_. She knew he couldn't wait. "God, y'know, after yesterday? Think we've definitely earned that week off. Just, no bringing Crowley in, all right? Not this time."

Maggie nodded. "No Crowley. Promise."

There was a comfortable silence while Maggie wondered if Dean was waiting in the car, Aerosmith cranked up loud, waiting on his brother.

Sam seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Well I should go. We're just about to take off for that case, meet up with Bobby, I just—didn't want to leave things the way they were. Since we're not gonna see you for a few weeks." He stood up and curled a gentle hand around her arm. "'Bye, Mags. You take care of yourself. And we'll text you whenever we can." He smiled. "Dean's gonna be hell to live with, that's for sure." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Love you, little sister."

Maggie pulled away just enough to look up at him. "Sam? Just be careful, be very careful with those beasts."

"You got it." He smiled, and let himself out.

So Maggie said the rest of it to the silence her boys left behind. "I'm gonna miss you, big brother. I'm gonna miss my Dean." She closed her eyes. "Take care, Sam. And I'll see you soon. I love you."

And left one thing unspoken, hanging in the air as the Impala gunned away down the street.

_Why had Adam lied to her?_

Maggie shook her head.

Shook her head against a creeping coldness inside her mind.

* * *

><p>Adam paced the warehouse; haggard, tired, skin ashen and eyes drawn with sleeplessness. The bawling from the cradle hadn't stopped in the last two hours. He had tried everything; singing songs in every dialect he knew. Drinks, both human and monster-brewed, poured down a little throat raw with screaming. Giving the child his own blood. Holding it, setting it down, swaddling and unwrapping it, changing its underclothes. Nothing soothed it. Nothing helped it to sleep. It seemed lost, adrift in a void and crying out constantly. As though it hadn't grasped the fact that he was there.<p>

He strode toward it again, frustrated, and knelt to splay his fingers on the tiny, heaving chest of the restless infant Shapeshifter.

"Speak to me!" Adam implored it. "Tell me what you need!"

The child—human, by all estimation, except that he knew by bloodline that it was his—mewled pitifully and bucked away from his hand. Adam's throat seemed to swell, his mind reaching for that of the infant, the way Eve had taught him, in order to soothe it.

But he encountered a solid mass, a hot, feverish force inside the child's mind. Something that prevented him from communicating with it. From comforting it.

The same grip of pulsing raw quiet that he had found in the minds of a dozen other children today.

Whatever had been stalking Maggie…

It had touched them all.

* * *

><p><strong>Fin...?<strong>


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